


Goddess of Temptations

by Momma



Series: Lee In Love [3]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Bachata, Ballroom Dancing, Dancing, F/M, Haruka POV because I can't make Lee think naughty things, Lee is going to die, Paso Doble, Salsa dancing, because I am writing more dance scenes, but it's fucking close, but what a way to go, fanart is appreciated because I either write or draw, he's too pure, let me know on what I can improve, the Paso Doble does not get enough love, your pick
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2019-01-17
Packaged: 2019-07-10 04:26:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15941759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Momma/pseuds/Momma
Summary: They're on a mission to keep the Daimyo's daughter alive. Somehow, this involves foreign dancing.Lee might not survive.He's okay with that.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Discord is terrible, these people give me ideas, y'all just terrible. I love you. 
> 
>  
> 
> Also, who knew Lee being twitter-patted was what I needed to stop being cockblocked by writersblock?

Lee couldn’t take his eyes off her. They were in Tea Country for a mission together because, clearly, someone high up had a warped sense of humor and thought Lee could get anything done while his most glorious golden lotus was anywhere within eyesight of him. Of all things to be there for, a dance competition had not been even in his first ten thoughts. Then again, the daughter of the Daimyo was interested in the very foreign dances that had swept the Nations, so maybe he should have…? 

 

But Haruka was dressed in kitten heels with straps that wound up to her knees, clearly Akimichi made, and a dress that swept like petals along her long, long,  _ long  _ legs. The top had a low, tight waistline, a thick band the width of his hand side to side that… broke into a very revealing V. One that barely covered enough of plump but small breasts, the fabric only about two gauze layers away from being straight up scandalous with six tiny cords taking over at the shoulders on each side. The cords wrapped around the otherwise backless dress and back around to the waist. A thick, lace strap draped over her biceps from around the shoulders, the lace scrolling across the blades of her back. More lace adorned the dress in tasteful, barely noticeable details, but Lee was having the hardest time not watching her back ripple when her arms moved or the slithering of muscle in the small of her back that was only cut off by the dress itself.  

 

He was going to  _ die _ . He was only so strong. 

 

He got to touch her to hold her close, to feel the play of muscles beneath his fingers, brush his palms, tease every sense of touch his hands could register in the highest degree. She didn’t seem to notice what she did to him, either. And yet, the look she just gave as he barely avoided colliding with another dancer couple said that she was amused and probably very aware. Her hips swayed just that little more, her back shifted more tantalizingly, arching as her breasts pressed even tighter to the curve of barely there fabric. He didn’t know what dances had been picked, nor what the daimyo’s daughter knew—his memory of any mission information had been fuzzy because he had walked in on Haruka trying dresses and showing them off and he had felt his brain short out—so now he was going in blind. He had faith in his golden lotus, however, and felt no concern. 

 

“My goddess,” he murmured as he bowed her through the doors, one hand firm on the handle to hold it. A woman behind them smacked her partner’s shoulder, pointing at him very firmly. “Please, allow this humble man your divine hand.” 

 

Haruka slid a hand down his forearm, the sleeves of his green button down rolled to his elbows and allowing skin-to-skin contact, before placing her calloused palm in his. Swallowing slow and feeling his heart lodge in his throat, he allowed her to pull him from the door, the handle now bent in the curve of his fingers and unnoticed by him. 

 

They swerved around the competitors lingering in the walkway, the goddess before him pulling him into her orbit just by existing. She was the tallest woman, muscular and firm where others were soft and smooth. Heart hammering against his throat, he decided that was for the best. There would be no real competition with her glorious beauty. Then, a number was called and he missed something in between because the number was on  _ his back _ , but his lotus was before him. 

 

“Come, Lee,” she all but purred, leading him like a lamb to slaughter. He went, no questions asked. “Ready?” 

 

He took a moment. “My greatest goddess, I don’t even remember anything except you,” he murmured. “Can you remind me what… dance we are here to perform?” 

 

She laughed, low and smokey and enough to make his pulse turn up. “The Salsa.” 

 

Oh. 

 

He was going to die. 

 

He would be happy to. 

 

“Then, shall we?” he said into her hand as he pressed a kiss to her wrist, her arm settling over his shoulder and his own hand slid up to her firm arm to tiny straps, then down her side, hot palm to divine skin. 

 

He barely heard the music begin, the way her body flexed in his arms making his blood rush. He flowed warm and soft as she pressed her leg back, turning her head. The starting pose, simple, devilishly enticing. Displaying the long slit that bared her leg to the crease of her groin. One hand on her hip, he stepped forward, almost forcing the next part, stepped in tandem as he turned her, as she stood from her low almost crouch into a gloriously countering stand. Almost, but not quite because she pushed back, always challenging. His blood boiled and they had just started. 

 

Only one hand touched her hip, the two swinging into a toe spin before she continued on, one, two,  _ three _ . He reached, touched her hand, the wide, wild flare of her skirt brushing against his arm, against her legs. She stopped her spin, standing in a lunge, as he held her tenderly, large hand around her wrist so that his fingers overlapped. He loved that, sometimes, she had the most feminine features and used every stolen touch to bring her back to him, to entice her. She came, one deer-like step at a time, toes barely touching the ground. He stepped into her space, his knee parting hers and she laid back, knowing, believing his arm would be there to catch her as she dipped. He couldn’t breathe as her neck was bared to him, her body a shrine that he would worship at, would kneel to, her soul bright and fierce. 

 

He could not stand her vulnerability and brought back to him, her hands catching on his chest. He walked her back, the sound of her breath loud in his ears, louder than his blood, than the music. Then she grinned, sharp and challenging and spun away, her hips swaying, her body tensing and relaxing in ways that made her muscles dance beneath her skin. He couldn’t say no and went after her, chasing as she wanted, one arm coming around, planting itself below her breasts and pulling her back into him. He was only marginally wider, barely more than a breath of air, really, and it thrilled him even as she allowed him liberties. His hand was on her bare skin, for but a moment, before she spun, and he spun away quickly, instigating his own chase, as he floated away, body poised for more. She leaned against him, held him, her leg coming high against his hip. His hand sought the warm flesh without thought, sliding up the outside of her thigh even as he turned to her. She smirked, letting him slide up against her, her leg in his hand, her body moulding to his without protest. She arched, not a true dip, and he felt his blood evaporate from the heat. Then she swung her leg back, from his possession and to the floor, and he followed. Again and again he would follow, would pursue. 

 

A hand, tipped in the deepest rose like her lips, held him back even as he came onward. The she came to him, willing and soft, leg flying up to land on his shoulder. He nearly shuddered, catching her leg in the crook of his elbow as it slid from it’s perch, stepping against her once again, her other leg dragging the floor until her hips swiveled and he released her. She spun away, hips swiveling, twisting. He came in behind her, grasping her hand like it was a delicate lotus, dancing in time with her legs. Her other hand came up and how could he do less than to grasp it with his own. He twisted her to face him, the two unable to look away, then he spun her, her leg rising in a kick before she slid into a wide split that made his heart stumble. 

 

Without thought, he brought her back up, all but effortless and in time to his heart drumming his ribs. She grinned slow and visceral, her body swaying as his followed suit, the two dancing, their feet barely touching the floor. 

 

Then she leaned into him, her leg around his waist, and he spun before grabbing one hand and spinning her out in turn. She went, her legs going loose as she slid across the floor and he followed desperately, as if wanting to keep touching, and he so very much did. 

 

She grabbed his leg, looking up at him from beneath long lashes. He held out his hand. 

 

The music stopped. 

 

The room was silent. Too silent. Then… 

 

It  _ roared _ . People were standing, now, clapping. Some whistled, shrill and vivid. Blushing, Lee helped Haruka to her feet and the two bowed. He had forgotten. How had he forgotten. Then he looked at his dance partner, his lady love, his golden lotus and understood entirely. She gave him a smug wink, allowing him to take her hand. 

 

There were three more days of competitions. 

 

He may not survive. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Morning has been having a shitty day. Actually, most people have been having a shitty day, myself included. Have some Lee/Haruka dancing sexy dances.
> 
> I have a [Discord!!](https://discord.gg/VBqXBf7) That’s where so much goes on to make these kind of things happen.

He watched such dispassionate dance. It was… horrible, was this what others thought the _Paso_ _Doble_ was? This lackadaisical, haunted, passionless rote kata, only more mechanical? He turned from the dance floor, heart dropping to his toes.

What terrible, heartless imagery.

“Haruka, my goddess, May we… deviate?” Because he was a Good Man and a Loving Man, he asked his Golden Lotus her honest opinion. The curled sneer on her face as her eyes narrowed further was answer enough. “Thank you.”

He found the live orchestral band easily. “Please, help us. This… travesty of dance must be rectified! My goddess, she is _passion_ and _fury_ and _fight_! She is of thunder and lightning! She is the first breath of Spring and the final roar of Summer! She is the first bloom of the lotus! This dance… it must reflect her!”

The stage director gave him a look. “She the tall woman that would break a man?”

Lee lit up. Someone who saw her as the fierce warrior she was! “ _YOSH_! We are going to be on that floor as opponents! I must woo her with the full Springtime of my Youth! I must battle my goddess and gain her approval! I must step up and be a man for her!”

The man looked at him, peered around to the woman he professed to adore beyond all others, and leaned back to laugh. “Good man! This place needs some real soul.”

Lee grinned wide and sappy as he looked to his goddess before turning back, nodding. “Thank you very much!”

The man waved him on. “Go. Shake them up.”

Lee saluted as he bound away. It was time to bring back the _passion_ of the _Paso Doble_.

 

“ **By special request, this dance will have live music for couple 0-0-3** ,” rumbled a masculine voice over static laden speakers. The majority of the crowd wondered what was going on - the first day of the competition was never that well known or attended and many had not seen their previous performance. Those that had sat up straighter. The dancers themselves came closer to the floor. More than one civilian instructor readied a cam recorder because this would be the pinnacle that any couple would want to reach.

The lights went down, many yelling or crying out. A lone light came up, a thickly muscled, dangerously dressed man stepped into it. The male of the couple, a full Matador bolero in black with a deep green stitching, a golden tipped pink lotus on the back. The tight trousers went to his ankles, the hem cuffed and tipped in a gold line with more green embroidery. The sash was a pale blushing pink, wrapped tight but loving around a trim waist. The vivid white of his shirt was only offset by the cape he carried, a red deep enough to be blood on one side, the same pink as his sash on the other.

These were not traditional colors.

The sound of a thousand voices whispering was like a field of wheat brushing over each other in the wind. The sharp, echoing clip of a heel hitting the floor caused silence. Right foot swinging out from the firmly planted left, it too tapped firmly, unhesitating in releasing its barked command of the floor and the audience. Confidence oozed from the form on the floor, lit up like he was the only thing in existence. No music played. None dared.

Left foot swinging out, he stomped his heel, firm and unbowed, then lunged upright. It was startling, such a large move, as if goading something on. Feet flat, he stared into the distance.

Another light came up.

In it, far across the floor, stood the woman who was his partner, gown tight but modest until one found the slit that went all the way to the crease in her thigh… on both sides. The gown was the deepest of reds to match his cape, a pink and gold lotus in her hair that was coiffed into loose, wild curls barely held back. Her back bared to the world, she walked—no, she stalked forward, letting her legs lead and her hips follow, deep curling sways that sent her gown fluttering like a lover across her legs. Her fingers lifted, with them the wide and free wings of the gown, the middle barely keeping her decent.

Then she waited. He had to provoke her.

The staccato of sharp heels to the floor had heads snapping back. The Matador was setting the tempo, fast, stern, toes and heels beating out the beginning of their dance. Inviting her to his side with a promise. A declaration. The music itself started, whipping up as they finally moved towards each other.

This was not a dance. This was a _duel_.

 

Lee held his grin in, his eyes sparkling with his delight. The moment he finished starting the musicians, he twisted, the cape flaring like the taunt it was.

Haruka responded by turning away, twisting her hips as her arms went out to flare the gown, then looking over her shoulder as it settled restlessly. She dared him in turn for turnabout’s fair play. Then she stepped toward him, long leg in those three inch stilettos flexing and teasing, drawing his eye. She smirked, tossing her head. Slinking towards him, arms raising along with vibrant bloody wings to make herself more defiant, more furious and untamable, she allowed her steps to taunt, like ghostly reminders. He swallowed because he had seen those legs in action, had seen them crush a man’s skull. He knew her violence wasn’t just visual; it was factual.

Suddenly, she was upon him, pushing him back with gown flaring wildly as she circled like a maddened beast. He responded by twisting from her, cape swirling only to be released, his form hungered and loving, daring her to taste. Her rebuttal was with a dare, darting in close. His hand came up, not quite touching her cheek, her neck as they battled with steps, her body curling into his, undulating in a move so sensual as to be heart stopping, legs whipping up and around. Then her hands were on his chest, just the tips of her fingers skimming his shoulders as she walked him back. He twirled away, then into her, suddenly too close for her to push back, hand settling on her waist as they rocked and stepped in complicated synchrony. They twirled with each other before pulling away, like magnets torn from each other.

It didn’t last.

It was as if they crashed into each other, like the ground shook and the music itself reached a crescendo of brilliant, bursting sound. His hand grasped hers, his hand on her hip as he tried to guide. Haruka refused, turning her face away as if bucking his authority, body pulling from his own. They went, back and forth, twirling, twisting on the floor. Headstrong, dominant, victory just in reach. She fought him every step, banished him even as he drew her close; he fought to keep her at his side, bodies almost touching so often as to be scandalous, his legs twisting into her own.

Finally, as if relaxing into him all at once, she calmed, allowed him to lead her instead of trying to lead _him_. He had earned his right, had conquered her for the moment. Yet this was not forever and they again come together at odds.

The crowd held their breath around them, as if watching a drama of quarreling lovers come to a conclusion. He pulled her closer, held her lightly. The music slowed and he pulled her even tighter, fingers on the nape of her neck as she slid against him. They finished, standing thigh to chest. Then, he laid her out, her legs folding and pliant, her body all but on the ground as his leg went out. He crouched, her trust in him phenomenal, barely a hands width from the floor. It was a perfect finishing dip.

 

The silence that filled the room was quickly overcome when one woman burst into tears. Lights came up, the crowd jumping to their feet with screams and whistles. The two separated their bodies but not their hands, turning to bow and walk off. Lee grinned at his golden lotus.

“Water before our next set?”

Haruka pulled him in, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him deeply enough to make his head spin.

“Yes, please,” she purred before letting him go to stumble back. Blinking rapidly, he cleared his throat.

“Of course. B-be right back.”

 

The two minutes he was gone, he thanked the orchestra profusely, thanked the opponents on the dancefloor, and grabbed light snacks and enough water to cover a field of crops. Haruka was already in the back changing, the folding shoji screen backlit so that Lee was able to see how much was coming off… and how little was going on.

He blushed as he sped off to change over into the soft billowing trousers similar to outlanders’ clothing, but much less fabric than he had anticipated with slashed and frayed holes here and there and a ninja grade mesh sewn into it. He was to wear a tight, long-sleeved shirt with it, the top cropped as the trousers hung low. It was a tad more scandalous than what he would ever wear, yet he had been outfitted by Ino-san and she had paired everything out. Honestly, he figured  hat Sai would like this style as it was incredibly comfortable but also easy to move in. The boots, soft, supple leather, teased his thighs as he zipped first one, then the other. Touching his toes, palms to the floor, he lifted his legs to swing them around.

Laughing at himself, he flipped to rights and squatted, everything staying in place and not pulling awkwardly. Bending back and then forward again, he finally stood and put his hands on his hips. Satisfactory, he thought.

Then Haruka stepped out and his brain shut off.

Kami-sama bless Ino-san.

 

“ **Next up, new this year is the** **_Bachata_ ** **! Would contestants please make their way to the floor** ,” requested the same voice, the speakers crackling.

Lee had to keep his eyes forward, his face aflame as he guided his goddess to the dancefloor. Her dress was… not so much a dress as a sheath that barely touched the mid of her thighs. The breast cups were molded and set to her formidable figure, the tops of soft flesh peeking over in a cut-out that traced the edges of lace that spread from her collared throat in shear petals of a repeating pattern of lotus to her wrists. Half a hand span below that was a deep diamond that curved just below her belly button and around her sides before the top most point settled loving in the cleft of her abs.

The back was opened in a smaller diamond between her shoulders blades, a lotus painted on her skin, gold tipped and pink. One to match the much larger lotus on her right thigh, petals tracing down her long leg to the golden heel with green tassels at the ankle. Her hair was pinned up in a wild forward surge, almost looking like an undercut fauxhawk.

Her jewelry was jade with pink and gold lotuses, the earcuffs hand crafted to match the bracelets, the left anklet, and the large belly jem that kept pulling Lee’s full attention. It was a glue in (or, in this case, chakra bound) but that didn’t detract from the glittering elegance of her adorned in his favorite flower, the flower that was nearly his icon.

It was like she belonged to him with her adorned so.

Like she _wanted_ to belong to him.

What a heady feeling.

Clearing his throat, he glanced at her as they stepped into the floor, eyes only for her. Because now that he could watch her, could keep his eyes on her, he never wanted to look away. Her legs rippled with toned, stark muscle as she stepped right into his arms. How sweetly she did so after such a strong personality earlier, how tenderly she allowed him to touch her despite her own strength. The music was being played by the live band opposite the orchestra, the singer a last minute addition to them as a guest. He was, if fact, an audience member and from beyond the Elemental Nations. He grinned as he looked at the dancers.

“Thank you for having me today!” he started, voice a deeply accented, crooning tone. No wonder he was going to sing. “It is my pleasure as Roman Javier to sing! Please, dance!”

The band rustled a moment before getting into place, the crowd silent in anticipation. A News anchor was there, camera fixed on the floor, on Lee and Haruka without their knowledge. Lee glanced up at his lotus, through his long lashes and she pinked in the cheeks, her pulse racing as the first strains of the band rung out, Roman-san and his two backups starting the crooning lyrics his voice so easily took to.

One large hand held her hip, the other sliding down her body from her clavicle to her lower stomach, teasing the skin beneath his hand as she rolled her body without thought. His leg slid between hers, yet he didn’t step closer so much as angle himself, letting his palm burn into her flesh as he slid it to her other hip, fingers pressing in as he nudged her. Her body moved, hips following the heat, one hip up, the other down, only to switch, her body curving into him when he made to pull her closer. He pushed and she left the heat of him. He pulled and she eagerly returned. He pressed and she curled and curved and rolled, breasts coming to rest on his chest for but a moment.

He released his grip, wrists coming to lay on her waist, her hips bouncing in time to each pluck, pluck, pluck. They slid higher, settling lightly against her ribs, her breasts surely in his face as she popped her chest once, twice, thrice… before being rolled in his arms, from elbow to hands to elbow, her legs falling in line in a small sideways step. He stepped back, she stepped forward. He pressed closer and she straddled his thigh, hands going around his neck as if to keep him so close. He laughed, low and intimate, letting one hand to settle on her belly, all but cupping her belly jem. The other held the small of her back, popping her into his body, only to walk them into an ever widening gap, hips back and forth, hers matching instantly.

Then he slid his hand up, across her body, under her breast, down her arm, and finally to her hand to twirl her out. She felt him at her back, his free hand taking her hip into his palm, and they swayed, deep and wide and sensual. Her body didn’t fight, refused to try and dominate when he held her so wantingly. Her head fell back just enough to see him, his eyes on her, always on her.

He twirled them, not something seen in _Bachata_ usually, but he made it work, twisting her around to lightly palm her neck, her side, to make her lay into him and sway and dip, hips pressed one way, then the other, his body shuffling closer as he pressed his knee again between her own. Then, he pushed her back, grabbing her hand again, but both, and pushed her out to pull her in once more. They shuffled in tandem, bodies liquid fire, slick against each other. The _Cha-Cha_ steps easy, so easy to blend into the ever evolving _Bachata_. He spun her, caught her to him, and she held him cradled in her arms.

Hands all down her sides, he had her bounce her hips before he turned her, her body rolling, rolling, teasing and _rolling_ , slow and languid and sexual. He pulled her tight at that, knee between hers, rolling them both, hips colliding but for mere fractions. She felt need buld in her, the merest of silken thong and cotton trousers separating her from him. Her breath accelerated, her hands afflicted with the barest tremble. He pushed her out, hand coming around her, holding her to his side before he laid his other hand on her, just above where she needed only to trail up, leaving heat and hunger behind as she bent into the curve he wished for her to make until his palm was sat below her breasts, his fingers barely able to find space between. The feel of it seared her.

Then she was up again, arms around his neck as he swayed them, pressed her to the side as he followed, then back, branding fingers and palms on her ribs, her hips, switching when needed, when wanted, to her back to tug her so close it was if they were melded together only to press her away so she could breathe for a moment. Then, he brought her so tight and close, she felt the ripple of his leg against her mons. She felt her back arch of its own violation, leg tugging up as he leaned, then pressing back to the ground, to the earth as he went the other way.

She was overheating, body starting to boil and bubble just beneath the calm exterior of her skin.

She loved the feeling of it, of how wanted, how _cherished_ he made her feel.

He released her, hand tugging her curved fingers as they _Cha-Cha_ stepped into the final pose. Pulse like a hammer, body all but vibrating, she felt her face grin sharp and hungry. He looked at her, eyes blown with his own wanton need until the pupil all but took over.

The crowd cheered, loud and joyous and trembling. She didn’t care as she pulled him closer, let him mold her to himself. And the moment they were dismissed, she was dragging him from the floor.

He deserved such a big reward.

She deserved a big reward.

Good thing they could help each other out, hmm?


	3. Chapter 3

Lee laughed as he held a guitar, fingers placed by the old man with a guffaw. He grinned, barely phased by the language barrier the older foreign man presented. He was shorter than Lee, mustache full and groomed meticulously like the man’s graying hair, dashing streaks like a comet from his brown temples. The woman Lee thought to be his wife laughed and clapped a slow tempo that he followed with only a bit of fumbling. This wasn’t that different from a biwa—Okay, yes it was, but he had held an instrument similar before and the lessons were easy for him to grasp. 

Haruka was giggling as she picked up the castanets,  _ clack-clack-clacking _ them. He bit his lip, his eyes following her as the beautiful older woman, black hair threaded with silver and ivory, grabbed her own castanets and  _ cla-cla-clacked _ them. He grinned as he strummed the guitar like Señor Hernández showed him, picking the beat up quickly. The women grinned and started to circle. 

The two had barely started to dance, castanets rattling in their palms and his fingers finding the chords faster and stronger before the call over the intercom had the younger couple looking up. 

“ **Would all dancers for the** **_Flamenco_ ** **come to the dance floor 5-S. Would** **_all_ ** **dancers of the** **_Flamenco_ ** **come to the dance floor 5-S.** ” 

Haruka sighed as she looked over and Lee shrugged. It was twenty minutes early for the set, but then again, the dance competition had been getting boring sitting around. They still needed to change, though. Actually, the moment they left the curtained off area, there was a wild if mostly silent flurry of motion, dancers looking around in worry. All of them were in partial states of dress. Lee narrowed his eyes. This was not scheduled. 

Glancing at Haruka, she too seemed to understand. This was probably something a little less innocent than the dance hosts thought. Taking her hand, kissing the soft inner wrist while his eyes held hers, he wished her luck without words. This dance would probably be one they would have to interrupt. 

Within ten minutes they were dressed, less elaborate than they usually tried for, but they had needed time to don a few weapons. Haruka had a thin steel-silk sheath beneath her gown, figure hugging, showing that muscular women really did have the most glorious form, waist tucked and hips and thighs strongly outlined. Broad shoulders were shrouded in dark pink that was almost crimson, black beading and lace that gave a false softness. The skirt truly started at the knees, wide ruffles that were packed tight over each other and giving way to a train that was unusually long. Then again, Haruka was tall and  _ strong _ . Her legs weapons of destruction. 

Lee ran a finger along the deep V of the solid pantsuit that went from ankles to shoulders in one piece. It was a dark gray, metallic green and shiny black pinstripes crawling from cuffed trousers up. The shirt he wore was black, a pink-red cravat leaving a brilliant strip of color to the tip of the V where it was tucked. His bolero was just as gray as his suit and the same pink-red lined the simplistic design. A black hat with equally black poms around the rim was, as Ino called it, a “Bandit” hat. At his look, she had just shrugged at the time and he had accepted the name, if only because he didn’t know another name either. It sat at a slant, shadowing his brow. 

“Señor Lee! Señor Lee!” Lee looked from his lady to the older man from earlier, his face ruddy as he gasped for breath. “Ah, Señor Lee, request I make?” 

Lee blinked before smiling. “Sí, Señor Hernández! What is it?” 

The old man held up the guitar in one hand, strap clapping the back of the instrument. In his other hand were castanets, chattering as they bounced off each other. Haruka gladly took the instruments, the elegant way she held them making Lee’s heart pound. He didn’t even notice taking the guitar, to the older man’s amusement. 

Ah,  _ amor joven _ . 

Then he was pushed forward and the young man jolted back to awareness beyond his Lotus, blinking at the guitar in his hands. Slinging the strap over his head with casual grace, he held it against his body, wondering what Señor Hernández had in mind. 

“ **Ladies to the left field, Gentlemen to the right field** ,” came the voice of the announcer. “ **This is a competition that shows how well partners know one another, dear audience. Come and be amazed at the prowess of the dancers that have made it thus far!** ” 

Lee watched Haruka walk away, taking in the small woman near her, their target to protect. Any one of the dancers could be out to slay the young woman and with this being the first group dance where the dancers weren’t watched closely for sabotage. This would be a mess to keep a close enough eye on the girl, but they would do their job. 

“ **We will be providing live music for this event. Please refrain from entering the music stage during this time** .” 

Lee smiled a little as Señor Hernández waved to him, nodding his head in acknowledgement. Then, he closed his eyes as he listened to the women settle. This was a dance he would have to be very good at to keep up with her. 

 

Castanets rang out. Haruka didn’t think before following, hands flowing soft and feminine around her head, twisting to her waist and back up. Her castanets kept pace, her eyes closed as she listened to who had to be the lovely older woman from before start to croon words she had no hope of knowing the meaning of. Soft exclamations around her started up. A guitar from the  _ male dancers _ rang out first, followed by heavier beats, wood on wood. Haruka didn’t do anything beyond  _ start _ . 

The smaller dancer beside her was the young woman she was to protect. With stars in her eyes, the girl didn’t even protest as Haruka urged the young woman to move with her. She was barely a step ahead of the girl who twirled with her, kicking out her leg to follow the sweeping motion of Haruka dragging her train along with her. It was like watching a peacock teaching a cardinal, large and flowing compared to small and compact. Surreal considering this was a dance competition. 

But then, it was known that the pair 003 were beyond this competition. 

Toes tapping soft notes only to be joined by heavier heel raps filled the air, the women in this competition to win following the choreographed steps that they had all been sent to memorize. They were graceful, twirling, skirts swirling. Some had trains like Haruka’s though not so long, not so heavy. Most others had tiers or loose lace and soft ruffles. A small handful… well. 

Haruka darted one hand forward, castanet clacking around what appeared to be a dart. She sent it back to where it came from and a woman in bronze and orange stumbled away. She still danced, leading the women as they let their arms flutter gently, like the wings of doves as she chattered the instruments within her palms. She grabbed another dart, then another, coming from the far side of her and away from the girl. They must have thought to get closer in the dance by stumbling with intent, but with her leading… well, it was much harder to make it look like they were accidents. 

The girl beside her, small and pale and definitely a noble’s daughter, laughed softly as they completed their set, the voice of the woman singing falling silent with the final clatter of the castanets. Eyes like that of a smug feline graced the women as Haruka settled in to await Lee. 

 

He felt the rush of silence after the castanets ceased, his hand on the guitar impatient to start. He heard the barest wind and moved, heels beating a heavy tattoo, toes pressing sharp raps. The male dancers looked at each other in confusion, many shrugging. The music hadn’t started and this was not the steps they knew. What they didn’t know was that Lee was using his armored bolero and pantsuit to deflect the darts coming in like rain,  _ plink-plinking  _ before he strummed, opening the male section of the dance. 

An older masculine voice warbled, tune clear and bright. Lee grinned deviously as he swooped from his improvised start into the mandated steps of the competition. The susurrus of background instruments hid the sounds of someone receiving his own dart and choking. At least two dancers in his peripherals left the dance floor, one clutching his throat. 

An almost dark pleasure made him smirk, his guitar swinging around until it hung across his back, arms arching into the air to clap. Shoes scuffing the wooden floor, heels thumping, toes tapping, he eagerly led the procession of men. 

Step, lunge, knees bent as he swung around with one hand extended. Brought back up beside his head as he clapped, one foot slamming the floor with demand as the other clipped along as a steadfast support. Male dancers were called one after another, their partner’s across the room marching off to meet them with their ire. He went into the next spin, arms up, like the curved legs of a bridge, finger tips almost touching before dragging back through the air. Clap-clap, clap-clap- _ clap _ , from waist to above his head, his hips twisting. One arm up, elbow cocked, the other low, hips gyrating as he stepped through the tip, toe, ball-change,  _ heel _ . 

The final move was optional, a leap upward into a spin that ended in a kneel, one that Lee made look easy. Effortless. Not even breathing hard. 

The singer drifted out as the guitars strummed a low farewell. 

It was time for the couples dance. 

 

Haruka led her charge toward her handsome partner, clearly a noble’s son. Lee rushed away to return the guitar, bowing in thanks to Señor Hernández who took the instrument with a guffaw. He left before the older man noticed the minor damage of a few darts lodging in the main body. He resolved to speak afterwards with many an apology, but now he had a dance to begin. 

“May I,” he murmured to his goddess the moment he was within easy range. She graced him with a wicked grin, his heart thudding against his ribs more harshly than any run could push it. The moment he had her hand within his, he raised it to press kisses into her wrist, uncaring of who saw. “I cannot wait to have you within my arms, my Lotus. I have been trying to be patient and yet, I feel shunned without you near. Please, allow me to dance with you as the grasses do with the guidance of the wind.” 

She blushed delicately, deep warmth over her cheeks and just making her even cuter to him. Sighing at her beauty, he reluctantly let her go, stepping back to bow like a Foreigner. 

He couldn’t have timed it better. 

“ **Couples 9-0-1, 2-3-4, 1-0-1, 0-0-3, 7-5-3, and 6-2-6, please step onto the floor** .” 

The Daimyo’s young daughter laughed as she and her partner twirled together, showing off her 2-3-4. 

It was time, Haruka thought, to change things. It was time, Lee decided, to stop hiding. Hand in hand, the six couples flowed like rustling roses across the floor, Lee and Haruka leading them with their natural charisma and commanding presence. They released each other as they stood opposed, the other couples giving them looks. They were the only set to move away from each other. 

Then the music started, a bright sound of a voice crooning and warbling above all other noises. Lee grinned as excitement flooded him. 

He stepped, toe to the floor, body leaning on it as he lunged in a nearly gentle manner. Haruka mirrored him, both of their arms reaching up like great wings. She moved first, twisting her wrists and turning her head. Lee watched and followed half a beat behind, showing him obviously following. And Haruka led him. 

Led him with each step, circling the young couple they were to keep safe, toes rubbing the floor with sly rustling, heels shouting as the woman, shoulders broad and tight, led the man along like the besotted fool he was. They didn’t touch and the crowd felt impatient, the other dancers deferring to the couple who ruled the floor. The young woman they were protecting actively swooned. 

Lee lunged, catching her and twirling the girl as he stepped into her space and danced with her as if he knew her. Haruka threw back her head, laughing as she swept the man up, even shorter than Lee compared to her. They twirled around each other and their charge(s) and wowed the world. The girl in Lee’s arms was barely able to do more than follow, face red and eyes adoring. He smiled at her, a flash of teeth, and he had to dip her as she swooned once again, an arrow going over their heads to embed in the wall. 

Haruka, on the other hand, twirled her partner, little to king sounds coming from the torso. Only one dared go for her bared breasts, her mouth catching the knife. She winked when she stood, tossing it so it embedded into the stands. With her teeth. 

Lee quickly switched partners, the younger couple swirling together like twin eddies, dancing as if the ninja were still with them and they shone like bright gems polished to perfection. Lee took Haruka into his arms, her figure sensual against him as she flipped the tip of her gown to her grasping fingers. She smirked as she watched his pulse jump, taking the end and unraveling every other ruffle. Within seconds, between them, they had two whips of fabric and delicately hidden chain. 

Haruka snapped hers at a couple that came too close. They faltered, the woman dropping a ringing mound of senbon. 

“ **Team disqualified for going after another couple!** ” 

They snarled and Lee swung around with his own whip, deterring them from trying anything further as they walked off the floor. They went easily once they saw his face. Haruka circled him, watching their charges as they moved perfectly. They shared a look, her eyes shining with her love of her man. Look at them, she seemed to say. Look at how precious they truly are. They’ll go so far! 

He smiled small and intimate with her eyes on him, glancing at the kids. They are doing so well, his eyes crooned with such a gentle look. They are so Youthful and full of Life! They are so passionate! 

The two danced close again, Haruka giggling as she used her whip to tangle around Lee’s arm. He caught the end, pulling her in even as he flicked his whip at a man who had left his stricken partner on the floor, the end wrapping around his leg and slamming him to the floor as his feet were jerked from under him. Lee barely noticed as he twisted and swayed with his love. 

“ **Couple disqualified! Someone help the young woman?** ” 

With an absent snap of his wrist, the man was flicked from the whip and into the arms of Samurais. They circled again, the young couple little starlets guarded by gods of the dance. 

The music suddenly stopped, Lee jerking as he looked at the stage. A man was up there with two others, knives to throats. He was not happy about this and Haruka twirled from him to the couple. He nodded, wrapping the ruffled chain around his waist before kneeling. 

“We want that damned bitch!” 

Ah, such horrible manners. He plucked the hem of his trousers up, removing the layered weights with ease. He would have to apologize for destroying part of the floor after this. Standing, he held his weights in one hand, looking at the fools who had hijacked the dance competition. His voice rose clearly. 

“Forgive me! I am about to break the floor, dear judges.” 

So saying, he let go. The floor was wood, a small amount of space before the dirt, and nothing else. Ninja made things stout enough that often things like this would dent but not destroy. XD his was civilian built. 

The floor created a crater, wood panels screaming up into the air, splinters shooting out as the weights went into the dirt and then further down, dust creating plumes that obscured the unreal destruction. When the dust cleared, no one stood there and no one was injured. Well, almost no one. 

Lee was on the stage, checking the musicians over. Señor Hernández was beside him, arm around one of the young men on guitar as a young woman sobbed into the arms of the older woman. Only one had a nick in the skin and it was being treated by Lee with professional dexterity. The entire stadium sat stunned, mouths gaping. 

Haruka turned to the couple, the girl shocked at such brutality from such a soft, gentle man. Haruka whipped at a set of vicious women, their partners left knocked out on the floor. “Foolish,” she purred, swinging her hips. “Going against my love.” 

The Daimyo’s daughter looked on the verge of tears. Haruka hugged her with one large arm around her dainty shoulders. “You did so well, Hime. You dance beautifully.” 

The girl smiled hesitantly before beaming like the sun. Haruka cooed. She was going to be a force one day. 

 

Lee apologized profusely for the destruction of the floor. The sponsors weren’t… happy but they were very understanding. And thanked the nin for handicapping himself for their competition. One even asked how much the weights weighed. 

“Ah,” Lee blushed, thinking about it. “I had just upped the weight before coming to make sure the playing field would be more even so… a little over one and a half tons.” The group before him paled. 

“You can move with that on your legs?” 

“Ah! Yes! I hope that the one point five tons for each leg will be two tons by the end of the year. So three tons in total for now!” 

One of the judges in the back fainted. 

 


End file.
